Araminta MalfoyPotter: Eye of the Storm
by Araminta Malfoy-Potter
Summary: NOW COMPLETE In the sequel to Araminta Malfoy-Potter: Taking Hogwarts by Storm, Araminta comes back to the present and must deal with the changes she made to the past. She's going to stay in this time from now on...or is she?
1. chap one

Araminta Malfoy-Potter: The Eye of the Storm

A/N This story starts a little bit before the end of my first fic, _Araminta Malfoy-Potter: Taking Hogwarts by Storm_. So it's sort of a sequel. I was so encouraged by all of the reviews I received telling me to write more that I couldn't let the story stop! I thought I was done writing, but a really nice author emailed me and asked me to write a little bit of a fic for her, and of course I was happy to help her because she needed a lot of help. So, I hope you get good reviews for the fic you wrote! She wrote _A Magical Guide to Mpreg, Seventeenth Edition _even though it was my idea. Last I saw, it wasn't very funny yet but she was working hard on it. I don't think it's on fanfiction.net, so if you see it somewhere let me know! I'll beta it for you, just email me! (Maybe you have my address wrong, because you never wrote me back.)

So, anyway, this story starts right after Araminta saves Melannen in the present day. Now, she has to find out how the things she did in the past changed the future. All of it is fanfiction, Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and I'm not making any money.

Araminta and Melannen walked arm-in-arm up the long pathway to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The autumn leaves drifted down around them in a shower of red and gold, perfectly appropriate for showcasing the brave acts Araminta had completed over the last week. Araminta sort of wished that autumn leaves also came in green and silver, so that she could feel like she had done both her houses proud.

A shout came from up ahead. "Araminta! Over here!" 

"Mummy! Daddy!" Araminta yelled, shaking off Melannen and running up the dirt road. 

Draco and Hermione Malfoy, looking much older and more careworn since she'd last seen them, were standing on the front steps and holding hands.

"So it's true," Hermione breathed, taking Araminta into her arms. "I saw you a week ago and you were eleven...and today, you're seventeen and a week old, just like you were all those years ago when you helped us find true love at Hogwarts."

Araminta closed her eyes and leaned into the hug. She searched her memories.... Although she could remember the first past, the one in which she'd thought Daddy Draco and Harry were her fathers, she had another set of memories now, one in which Mummy Hermione had taught her to read and write and hold her wand. She knew that she'd miss her first set of memories, but she wouldn't trade her father's happiness for the world. He deserved to be with the woman of his destiny.

"Minta, you look stunning." Draco eyed his daughter's costume. "Just as lovely as when we last met!"

"She looks like a hooker," Hermione interjected, waving her wand and transforming Araminta's Satine costume into a boring jumper. 

"_But Mum,_" Araminta whined.

"Oh, all right," Hermione relented, giving Araminta her green and gold robes that were her trademark Slythindor outfit. After a moment, she smiled and put a hand on Araminta's cheek. "We've missed you so much, or, at least, we've missed your life. You grew up so fast!"

"Overnight," Araminta said, remembering Dumbledore's spell that had made her the physical equal of her seventh year classmates.

"However," Draco said, putting an arm around his wife, "there's someone that's been missing our very grown-up daughter for too long. Someone who's waiting for her in Dumbledore's office."

Araminta breathed, "Harry." 

"It would be cruel of us to keep them apart," Draco noted, nuzzling his wife's head. "You remember what it was like to be young and in love."

Araminta gave her mother puppy dog eyes.

"Oh, go on." Hermione laughed with tears in her eyes.

"Thanks, Mum!" Araminta said, before running up the steps and into the castle. 


	2. chap two

CHAP 2

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Review notes

anonymouse said: THIS IS A MARY SUE! TURN BACK WHILE YOU STILL CAN! 

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I say: I thought we had established in the last fic that her name is Araminta?

Snorkle said: The horror is back?

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I say: I was planning more horror, but I think it will be more action-adventure-romance this time around. If anything changes, I'll be sure to update the category!

This chapter is dedicated with much love to my teacher, Mrs. Smith, who finally relented and is allowing me to use her real name. 

Araminta pushed open the double doors and stopped in the lobby of the castle. It was dark, and so she had to let her eyes adjust to the dark. However, before they were finished (they adjusted too slowly because she hadn't eaten her carrots lately), she started running ahead to see her lover, Harry Potter. By accident she managed to run into two people who were also in the lobby.

"Ouch!" a man yelled. "Watch where's you're going! And you almost knocked over my wife!"

"But she didn't, dear," his wife said, putting a hand on his arm to stem his rage. "And, and...Araminta, is that you?"

"Sarah-Michelle?" Araminta asked, peering into the darkness. Her best friend from the past was standing near the big hourglasses that held the jewels that tallied the house points. She was much older than when Araminta had last seen her, but still beautiful.

"I've missed you," Sarah-Michelle said, taking Araminta into her arms and giving her a squeezey-hug.

"What's this?" Araminta asked, feeling a lump between them. "You're pregnant!"

"I know; isn't it wonderful?" Sarah-Michelle answered, rubbing her belly and putting an arm around Ron. "We're so happy."

"Okay, then I'm happy for you." Araminta tried very hard not to remember how gross and frightening she had been when she'd delivered Snape's and Millicent's babies (different babies) in the past. "Let's meet for coffee soon, okay?"

"Okay, but it will have to be decaf, because I don't want it to bother the baby! We were just here to check and make sure that the magical quill in Hogwarts would update the enrollment list with baby Weasley's name when it was born, so we'd know if we were going to raise a wizard/witch or a Squib. But we have to be going now. Bye!"

"Bye!" Araminta returned, watching them leave. Then, she turned to make another attempt at reaching Dumbledore's office and her one true love.


	3. ch 3

CHAPPIE Three

Yeah, like always, this story is fanfic and I'm not making a dime. Unfortunately.

Wow, thanks to all the peeps who have emailed me to tell me that they read my story. (Gee, some of you don't have to be so mean about it, but don't worry. I just shake it off!) To answer all the questions at once, I don't have so much time to write this story lately because I'm working on a screenplay of the prequel to this sequel, so I won't be able to update the six or seven times a day that I used to. I'm also writing some other stories!!! You'll like them too. I'll try to keep going, even if this story won't be as long as the other one lol.

Araminta practically skipped down the hall, she was so happy. Her heart sang a merry monotone: _Harry Harry Harry Harry Harry Haaaaaaarry. _She thought about trying a motet, but decided that she didn't want to complicate things (and, after all, she didn't know where Fawkes-Iolanthe was at the moment)--she only wanted one thing, and that was to see Harry's face, and his beautiful green eyes, and his dashingly handsome scar again. 

She was just about to slow down--even though it had just been a short while since she had last seen Harry, it had been years since Harry had seen her. She wouldn't want to give him a heart attack. However, as she rounded a corner, she ran smack dab into two familiar faces.

"Blake! Selene!" she cried, politely ignoring the thin goober of drool that connected their mouths. Obviously, they'd been smooching. "I've missed you."

"Who are you?" Selene eyed Araminta's curvy figure with suspicion, then turned her glare on Blake, who was drooling even more furiously now. 

"Must be a transfer student, because that's a boo... er, that's a _body_... er, that's a face I'd never--" He shut up when Selene punched him in the face.

Araminta waved her arms. "Stop! Stop! It's just me, Araminta Malfoy... Well, just Malfoy at the moment, though I'm sure it will change soon. I was moved up to seventh year, and Dumbledore and I decided it wouldn't be a good idea for a first year to go to class with seventh years, so he gave me an Aging Charm. And then I'm not sure what day it is--I might have gone missing for a bit because I had to go back in time and get my parents back together--yours too!"

"Huh?" Selene, who was still holding Blake by the scruff of the neck, stopped punching him but didn't let go. "I don't have parents, just my mum."

"Oh, not you." Araminta rolled her eyes. "Parthenogenesis. I remember. But Blake. I saw your mum, Millicent, give birth to you at about the same time Blake's dad gave birth to him."

Blake looked confused. "My mom is Pansy Parkinson, and I don't have a dad."

"Yes, you do," Araminta countered. Didn't anyone take her seriously when she said stuff? "Your dad is--"

"Miss Malfoy." Severus Snape entered the hall, his black cloak billowing about him like bat wings and his hooked nose scrunched up in anger. "I believe that the headmaster awaits you in his office. Do not keep him, and his guests waiting any longer." He opened his eyes wide, jerked his head toward Blake, and shook his head for 'no.'

"My dad is what?" Blake curled his little hands into fists and clenched them at his sides.

"Going to be very disappointed that you lost your house points by delaying Miss Malfoy when she is due elsewhere, I'm sure! Both of you, find someplace else to be!" Snape said, and glared them out of sight.

Once they were gone, Araminta ran over to the Potions Master and jumped on him, hugging him and wrapping her legs around his waist so that he had no choice to hold her tightly. "Sevvie! Oh, I've missed you. I'm sorry I almost gave away your secret."

"Yes." Snape sniffed, setting her down. "We'll talk later about that. Please, no more hugging. I'm not as young as I used to be and my back aches. Now, run along." At the last second, Snape grabbed her sleeve. "Araminta..." he began slowly. "I'm not sure what you were expecting here. Professor Dumbledore has filled me in on a few details, and for most of us, it's impossible to know what things you've changed to make the prophecy come true...."

Araminta concentrated very hard, trying to read his mind, but he blocked her. "I don't know what to expect at all," she answered. "All I can do is find out." With that, she turned on her heel and walked toward Dumbledore's office.


	4. Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

Me said: _If i was you I would never, ever write another word again. _

I say: If you ***_were_*** me...oh yes, you would. Because, you see, you'd be me (instead of Me) and then you'd be tap-tap-tapping away at the keyboard.

__

I will make it very clear: you cannot and never will be able to write.

Oh, a challenge! Very well, I shall work on my fine motor skills and raise you one: I'll be a calligrapher.

Araminta practically slammed into the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office, but she managed to avoid bumping (and breaking!) her nose just in the nick of time. "O-pen o-pen o-pen o-pen," she chanted, hopping up and down like a jumping bean. "Let me in, damn you! Oh, Merlin help me. Let's see." She ran through the list of sweets she knew.

"Chocolate Frogs?"

Nothing.

"Gummi Peaches?"

Nothing.

"Cockroach Clusters?"

Nothing.

"Root Beer Barrels?"

Nothing.

"Pixie Stix?"

Nothing.

"Dove Bars?"

Nothing.

"Beeman's?"

Nothing.

"Cinnamon Bears?"

Nothing.

"Reese's Pieces?"

Nothing.

"Candy Canes?"

Nothing.

"Ring Pops?"

Nothing.

"Pop Rocks?"

Still nothing. Araminta tapped her foot impatiently. She was about to go insane, literally insane with need to see Harry! What could the password be?

"Mars Bars? No, nobody likes those. Butterfingers?"

Nothing.

"Jelly Bellies?"

Nothing.

"Red licorice?"

The statue jiggled a little bit.

"Ooh, I must be getting warmer." Araminta scratched her head. "Black licorice?"

The statue jiggled a little harder.

Araminta clapped her hands. "I've got it! Mike and Ikes!"

The stone gargoyle moved out of the way and allowed Araminta to bound up the steps to Dumbledore's office. When she got to the top, she thought that she could hear people talking. Pressing her ear to the door, she heard several voices.

"But Ma, you gotta trust me! This chick is one fine piece of boo-tay! And she's rich, too! I tell you, we'll just avoid any pre-nups...you know I could, er, _convince _Hermione that they aren't necessary."

A deeper male voice chimed in. "He did learn from the best."

A woman's voice answered. "I'll believe her when I see her. Nobody's that perfect."

"Oh yes she is, Ma."

Araminta recognized that voice! "Harry!" she cried, opening the doors. What she saw made her stop in her tracks.

A/N Sorry for the cliffie! I might not be able to update until Thursday because I'll be busy with school. *sniff*


	5. Chapter FIVE

CHAp fiVE

MMM. I have been a busy bee but I found five minutes to write an update. Thanks silverhill! I'll be sure to add you as a friend on LJ!!!! I'm also been busy because I've taken up a new hobby: tea! I hope that by drinking a lot of it my fics will seem more like the Harry Potter books, which take place in England. See, there's this tea, and it's called Grey. Not so good as Lipton or Brisk, but pretty good anyway. There's Earl Grey for boys and Lady Grey for girls. So I'm going to infuse myself with lots and hopefully people will STOP POINTING OUT how Americanized my fic seems to them.

One lump or two?

FROM THE LAST CHAP:

The stone gargoyle moved out of the way and allowed Araminta to bound up the steps to Dumbledore's office. When she got to the top, she thought that she could hear people talking. Pressing her ear to the door, she heard several voices.

"But Ma, you gotta trust me! This chick is one fine piece of boo-tay! And she's rich, too! I tell you, we'll just avoid any pre-nups...you know I could, er, _convince _Hermione that they aren't necessary."

A deeper male voice chimed in. "He did learn from the best."

A woman's voice answered. "I'll believe her when I see her. Nobody's that perfect."

"Oh yes she is, Ma."

Araminta recognized that voice! "Harry!" she cried, opening the doors. What she saw made her stop in her tracks.

THIS CHAP:

"Hey baby. You haven't changed at all," said Harry.

"You either," said Araminta uncertainly.

She was telling a big, fat lie.

Harry _had_ changed, and, in Araminta's opinion, not for the better. First of all, he now had gray sides on his hair and it was receding toward the top of his head. He looked puffy, and he had a beer gut. He wore a shirt with obnoxiously wide collars that was unbuttoned down to his waist and showed off his chest hair (which hadn't receded a bit) and a set of gold medallions. None of these things were too worrisome; that was what makeovers were for.

What _was_ worrisome, though, was the lack of glasses. Harry had obviously grown into someone who cared about his appearance, but in all the wrong ways. (A/N This story is now an AU from my old story from this point on.) 

There was something else, too. He looked like he wanted to eat her. He kept looking at her in a way that reminded her of her uncle, Chester.

"Baby," Harry said, coming to slip an arm around her waist. She wasn't sure, but she thought that he'd touched her butt. "I want you to meet the 'rents. They're so excited to have little grandbabies all around the house, so they're helping with the wedding arrangements right now. Of course, I said if they wanted grandbabies sooner, I could just..." He whispered the rest in her ear.

"Uh," said Araminta, "I didn't know you could do...that...with...that."

Harry grinned. "Oh, believe you me, you absolutely can. And if you're really flexible, you can..." He lowered his voice again for the rest.

"I see," Araminta said. To change the subject, she motioned to the other people in the room. One was a man that looked sort of like Harry (only rather squat and old) and a woman who looked sort of like Ginny Weasley, only older and more haggy. "Would you be so kind as to introduce us?"

"D'oh," Harry said, slapping himself on the forehead. "These are my parents, James and Lily."

"Hi," said Araminta.

"Hi," they chorused.

Then, Lily pulled a stack of wedding invitation samples out of an oversized handbag. "Now, dear, on the invitations--do you want to be Araminta M. or Araminta Meliflua Malfoy?"


	6. Capter SiX

Chapter SiX

Milady DeWinter said: _Maybe try English Breakfast tea too? _

I say: I don't eat breakfast. My health teacher gets mad about that. Of course, now might be the time to start, since I will be infusing myself. Is English Breakfast for both genders?

Ella TheCoolPerson said: _that is so rank about harry and all dat stuf. he's acting like a total sleaze-bucket sort of person who would slap waitresses arses and all that._

Oh, definitely. He'd grab Flich's arse if it got close enough. But, since I've apparently characterized him so well at this point, I don't need to write that scene anymore. I'll leave it up to your imagination.

Thanks to everybody who wrote in to remind me that the books take place in Scotland, too! While I was thinking about it, I realized that since there were witches visiting from Salem in GoF (at the World Cup), I should probably remember that there might be parts of the books that will take place in America. Maybe bring in some American characters, or take mine to the U.S. What do you think?

Araminta answered, "I'm sorry...I don't think we've been introduced."

The red-haired woman clapped a hand over her mouth, then removed it to say, "Oh, you're right. We've just heard so much about you from Harry, over the years, that we already feel like you're part of the family. I'm Lily Potter, and this is James."

James tried to give Araminta a hug, but she managed to grab his arm in time and deflect his attention into a handshake. After all, Harry was said to take after his father, and since Harry currently had his hand tightly on her backside...

"It's nice to meet you," Araminta said, not meaning it at all. "And, er, I suppose we might as well use Araminta M., since people don't really need to know that my middle name is Meliflua. And it will save on printing costs."

"Don't worry about that." James put his hands on his expansive belly and laughed heartily. "We're rich. So are you, for that matter... Anyway, we're going to go all out to make our little boy happy."

Lily nodded. "Whatever makes Harry happy makes us happy." She giggled. "Strange how that works."

"Strange..." Araminta replied. 

"My dearest, what's wrong?" Harry asked, wrapping his hand around to squeeze her arm and managing to brush against her chest. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"

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I have, she wanted to say. _The ghosts of your parents. And the ghost of you. Where did the man I loved disappear to? Last time that I saw you, just after Voldemort was defeated, you were standing strong in your hairy costume. You were square-jawed and slender, but with strong shoulders and abs and oh, how I wanted to drown in your eyes. _

Now I think I just want to drown, period.

You're a creep of the worst sort. Don't touch me there! I said, don't touch me there, hentai! Sure, there was that day you came to my room and I let you take it all, but you were hot then. And you weren't skanky. And before you protest, neither was I.

You didn't have a beer gut and your chest was a smooth as a baby's butt. You had ugly, endearing spectacles and you didn't think bling-bling made good accessories. 

I wanted to shiver when you touched me.

I still want to, but now it's icky shivers instead of chills of heated passion.

"What were we talking about again?" Araminta asked.

"You wedding to our son," James answered, and winked. "We want to get things going so that you'll be legal and respectable--Harry told us that you'd decided not to wait until the wedding night." He winked again a couple of times.

"Ah, yes, the wedding," Araminta said, turning her head just in time to escape Harry's questing tongue, which was interested in exploring her tonsils. "I need some time to think about things. Maybe talk things over with my parents."

Harry nodded. "Okay. Hermione still looks like new--I'd not turn her down, myself--so I'm sure she'll have good advice." He leered at the space between her navel and her necklace.

"Great," Araminta said, backing out of the room.

She needed to talk things over with someone...but with whom?


	7. 7

Chapter Seven:

Anna Maria said:

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I don't really care...(snip long list of strange things) [why did you give?] your lead character a name as unusual and complicated as you can think of because you think it sounds cool.

I say: Araminta Meliflua is a name taken straight from canon, and it's a family name to boot. It makes perfect sense that she might have been named after an ancestor. (Did you know that Brits call a trunk a boot?) If you're confused about canon, hp-lexicon.org is a great place to start.

And also: _So, I ask you to please remove your story from the Harry/Draco category. You have no basis for keeping it here, but if you continue to do so, I will ask the nice people in charge of this page to ask you to replace it again. _

From the chapter management screen, link to explanations:

Characters (optional): select up to 2 characters that is [sic] part of your story plot.

You know, I had just changed this to Harry/Hermione but your note forced me to think carefully about which characters were going to be important--as well as look closely at what information the chapter management screen asks an author to provide.

Harry and Draco are part of my story's plot; in fact, they are integral to it. Is your position that Araminta should be added to the list of available characters? It's mine! Is your position that writers of a fic do not know who the main characters of their own story are--or what their relationship may be at a later point in the story? Huh. Is your position that writers of a non-romantic fic about two characters should not choose to name any at all? It's not mine. I rather like gen fics. Is your position that the characters only be named if they are romantically involved? If so, you'll have to take that up with the site's administrators, as this is not what is indicated to the authors. Otherwise, they would call it ship/relationship rather than 'characters.' 

My position is that this story is not misfiled. I'm sorry that you believe that it clutters up what I'm sure is an otherwise veritable treasure trove of excellent work. 

Kady Rilla Wholi said:

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1. Why is Harry, a FULL-GROWN MAN, gonna marry Araminta who is 17/11?

I can't give away the plot! :) But I will say that the Aging Charm from _Araminta Malfoy-Potter: Taking Hogwarts by Storm_ has, for our purposes, left her at age 17. 

On to the fic!

Araminta closed the door to Dumbledore's office and leaned heavily against it, her chest heaving with unshed sobs. This was horrible! This wasn't the Harry she knew. This wasn't the Harry anybody knew, even, because she was certain that, like Draco's parents, Harry's parents were dead.

Or were they?

Certainly, James looked a _lot_ like Harry--they had matching potbellies, scruffy hair, and they were both perverts. Lily's eyes were the same bright green as Harry's. Harry looked like a perfect cross between the two, except that he was only one gender.

No, Araminta decided, they were definitely Harry's real parents. But...Voldemort killed them a long time ago. She'd read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_. Hermione had read that part to her when she was six years old and had had a nightmare about strange owls with big teeth flapping around her head screaming, "Voldemort is nevermore!" She'd been staying over that night and hadn't wanted Araminta's crying to wake Draco and Harry, so she'd told her a scary story to keep her mind off the real nightmare....

Or had she?

Araminta remembered the history reading as well as having Hermione come into her room and cuddle her and stroke her hair. The two memories were from the exact same time. So, how could they coexist peacefully?

Logically, Araminta knew that it was possible that the historical changes she'd made when she went back in time with the Time-Turner had affected everyone but her--she could remember the original past, but she'd need to know the second past so that she didn't seem like a stranger in a strange land. But--well, she'd completed her task. She'd helped her parents reconcile so that she could be born. Things should have been right in the world, surely?

Yet, things had changed _before_ the point when she'd gone back in time.

There was only one man who could explain why the Potters were alive and kicking. Only one man had the power, the vision, and the knowledge to tell her what had happened with her past, her second past, the past before that, and her future. Voldemort.

But Albus Dumbledore would do in a pinch. She needed to find him, and fast! Raising her voice to ear-shattering decibel levels, she shouted for her best mate, servant, and personal house-elf--who, if she was quite correct, was waiting for her someone in the castle. "BOLLOCKSY!"


	8. CH 8

Chapter Eight

Ella: Glad I could help! :) :) :)

Sorry tonight's chappie is so late. I went out on a DATE! and I just got home.

"BOLLOCKSY!" Araminta screamed again, just to hear her voice ringing down through the stairwell like a liberty bell. She had an impressive chest and a powerful one due to the many years of singing with Fawkes-Iolanthe.

Bollocksy appeared out of nowhere, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "Miss Araminta! How may I be of service?"

Without meaning to, Araminta smirked. She'd always wanted a house-elf who used correct grammar. There appeared to be one good thing about this timeline after all.

"I'm going down to the Great Hall for some waffles. And I'd like you to fetch D--"

"Yes, miss! Right away, miss!" Bollocksy replied, bowing and skittering off.

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How rude of her to interrupt me like that, thought Araminta as she made her way to the empty cafeteria. Waffles were waiting for her, with strawberries, blueberries, peaches, and whipped cream on top. Araminta hoped that she'd still be able to eat whatever she wanted and not get fat. God, what if things had _really_ changed?

When Araminta had cleaned her plate and leaned back in her chair to sip from a mug of coffee with Bailey's Irish Cream (A/N just like me! Only don't tell!), she heard footsteps behind her enter the Great Hall. She looked up to see...

"Dra...Dad," she said. "Hi."

"Hi!" Draco smiled at his only daughter, the one he had so patiently borne from his own womb. "Bollocksy said you wanted to see me, so, here I am."

Araminta dropped her face into her palm. "No, well, I mean yes, I do want to see you. It's just that I wanted to see Dumbledore and she didn't listen to all of the directions. I bet she doesn't do so well on standardized tests."

"No, probably not," Draco replied, chuckling. "But maybe your dear old Dad can help you out. Confide in me, Araminta." His eyes shone like silver starts. "Trust in me."

"Well..." she began slowly, "when did Harry get so, so..."

"Famous? Well, he defeated the Dark Lord many years ago. You know that, love. He's been feted ever since."

"Like cheese?" Araminta asked. "Oh, feted (which here means treated as if he were the second coming of Elvis)."

"Yes, that's right." Draco smiled. "But I can't be jealous. After all, I've got Hermione. Speaking of your mom, I'm supposed to meet her in the library. She just can't leave the books alone."

Araminta watched Draco's leather-clad backside exit the hall. She didn't feel like he had helped at all. Maybe another cuppa would.


	9. chapter Nine

Chap Nine 

SORRYSORRYSORRYSORRYSORRY

SOOOOOOOOOOOOO

SORRY

...for not updating so much lately. See, I've been really busy with school and this guy that I think is my boyfriend. I have stuff to do and then my homework and then we talk on the phone a lot, but he doesn't do much talking lol so I have to talk for the both of us and then my throat is sore. I vow to do better in the future. Cross my heart.

As Araminta drained her cup of Lady Grey, swirled the cup three times and turned it upside-down she began to hear footsteps coming closer and closer. She could hear them on the stairs, then tap-tap-tapping outside the Great Hall, and then coming up behind her. She felt a presence behind her. It made her shiver, as if someone had walked over her grave.

It was Professor Dumbledore. He was very tall and he looked sort of like Ron Weasley, only old and with a broken nose. Also, his eyes were much twinklier. "Hello, Araminta. Bollocksy said that you wished to speak with me."

"Um, yeah," Araminta began nervously. "Um, okay, so I remember two pasts. You know this already, probably, because my parents and the Potters were here to meet me. I remember a time when my parents were Harry and Draco, and Hermione was my aunt, and when I was only eleven. You helped me grow into a woman and I entered seventh year..." She paused, fingers working nervously over her teacup. "And then I got a Time-Turner so that I could take extra classes, and I accidentally went back in time--except that I was supposed to, according to the elves, because I was supposed to _fix_ the past. I was supposed to help my father find his part-elven true love with Hermione. I was supposed to make Harry free to be with me."

Dumbledore picked something out of his beard. "So what's the problem?"

"Well... First of all, Harry is nothing like I remember. He's fat and ugly and he's also kinda creepy. I don't think I want him to touch me again. And--and--and in the time I remember..." Araminta was afraid to say the rest.

"Well, his parents certainly do spoil him. After all, he's 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' or some such nonsense."

Araminta gulped and said the rest in a stage whisper. "In my time, his parents were killed by...You-Know-Who!"

Dumbledore scratched his head. "Sorry, no. Who?"

"_You-Know-Who_," Araminta repeated, her voice dripping italics.

"Still nothing." Dumbledore held up a hand to stop Araminta from speaking, and squeezed his eyes shut. He was silent for seven minutes. "Nope. I don't know who."

"VOLDEMORT!" Araminta screamed in frustration.

"Oh, him. I don't know how he could have killed them; he himself died while here at Hogwarts. Snakebite or something. He should have seen Madam Pomfrey about it, but he was never a very bright wizard."

"Noooo," cried Araminta, "we defeated him. The Makeover Charm. He wasn't supposed to be dead, just neutralized!"

"Well, he's dead." Dumbledore shrugged. "You know, when you change things in the past, it doesn't just affect the future. The consequences ripple outward--to the future, to the past, sometimes even to other timelines. Perhaps Voldemort can only live in one timeline, and not in the way you intended."

Araminta was speechless. She'd killed someone. _She'd killed Voldemort._

She wasn't sure that she would be able to live with herself. She turned her teacup right-side up in case she needed to puke in it. 

"Hey, I'll read your tea leaves for you," said Dumbledore as he took it out of her hand. "It looks like...yes, I see...oh, well then...hmmm."

"What?" Araminta asked brokenly. 

"Well, see this bit here? Shaped like a hurricane?"

"Yeah."

"It means that you will go through a time of relative peace, but the worst is yet to come."

"Oh _that's_ cheery." Araminta stood up and stomped out of the Hall.

(A/N: Uh-oh! I wonder what is in store for Araminta next?)


	10. Chapter ten

Chapter Ten

Araminta ran down the long corridors with her hair cracking like a whip behind her. She wanted to find Draco and Hermione. She wanted to reassure herself that she'd done the right thing. If they were truly in love, maybe she wouldn't feel so much like she'd sacrificed her own in the process of traveling through time.

She skidded around a corner and ran smack dab into a Ravenclaw prefect. "You!" he said. "You there! No running in the halls. Who are you, and why aren't you in class?"

"I'm Araminta Malfoy," she answered huffily. "Excuse me, I need to find my--"

"That'll be ten points," the prefect said smugly.

"It will not!" Araminta was outraged. "I don't have to do anything you say! Besides, I belong to two houses, yet I'm in a house of my own--so I must be a prefect for Slythindor! You can't take points away from me; I'll just give them back." Araminta crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest in satisfaction. Let the jerk argue with_ that_.

She'd turned around to go into a different hallway when the prefect hit her from behind with a Body-Binding Charm.

Rat bastard! 

She couldn't even kick or scream as she was carried into a classroom and dropped unceremoniously on her butt in a chair. It only got worse from there.

"Where's your toad?" asked the professor, getting right in her face.

"Mmmmmf," Araminta replied.

"It's _your_ responsibility to take care of your toad. When you don't bring one, the whole group suffers as a result."

Araminta felt her head start to loosen up a bit and she realized that she was in the Hogwarts music room. What the heck? This hadn't been here before.

"Good morning, class," said the professor.

"Good morning, Professor Longbottom," the class chorused (hee hee!).

"First," Professor Longbottom began, "let's all squeeze our toads to the beat of the rhythm. Here we go--in the key of F, please, Mr. Flint."

"Mmmf," thought Araminta. She thought she could see Blake and Selene up at the front of the room--why didn't they see her and figure out what was going on? They knew she was such a good singer that she'd never be quiet during a class-even if she didn't want to be here. Her heart thumped along with the piano and the scales boiled into her veins. She had a song waiting to burst forth from within--and if she didn't let it out soon, she'd probably explode.

__

Fawkes-Iolanthe, she thought. _Find me, please._

End of chapter ten. To be continued!


	11. 11 OOh!

Chapter eleven

Just when they'd finally finished their ever-so-boring warmups, a magnificent phoenix flew through an open window.

__

FAWKES-IOLANTHE! Araminta thought hard and in the biggest font she could imagine. _HELP! PLEASE!_

Fawkes-Iolanthe landed on Araminta's hair and cocked her head to one side. Her deep crimson plumage was in a sharp contrast to Araminta's alabaster brow. The phoenix arched her neck, her throat throbbing as a pearlescent string of emotion spilled forth.

Phoenix tears splattered onto Araminta's cheeks and ran down the sides of her nose. She licked the salty drops from her lips and relaxed into a state of nirvana when the Body-Binding Charm left her.

Now the entire chorus was staring at her. She had to admit that she took a certain pride in being watched like this. She walked directly to the front of the room and some magic presence sensed her ability. The rest of the room darkened into oblivion while a spotlight illuminated her vast talent.

Professor Longbottom dropped out his toad and fumbled for an autoharp. He began to strum rock chords and Araminta moved to the beat.

__

My God, my tourniquet...

In her mind, she saw Harry's face as it had been even when she had been eleven (a few weeks ago)--still strong and young and handsome.

__

Return to me, salvation...

She saw his emerald green eyes swimming through her mind.

__

My God, my tourniquet...

His dark hair was getting curlier...

Return to me, salvation...

His eyes were turning brown, or were they gray, or blue, or silver, or violet, or black?

__

My God, my tourniquet (A/N This song is by Evanescence but I can't remember any of the other words right now.)

Wait, that didn't look like Harry. He was--sixteen? Devilishly handsome. 

__

Return to me, salvation...

Who was this other boy, and how could he be her salvation?

The sudden applause of the chorus at the end of the song brought her back to life. She needed to figure out who the boy was. Araminta was sure that he was the solution to all of her problems...but why would he be her salvation?


	12. Chap 12

Chapter Twelve. 

It's that time again--time for the responses to the readers and reviewers! :):):)

The Dying Duck said:

__

Poor, poor Harry. You've killed him, I think JK Rowling would have an epileptic fit if she saw this!

You have an obsession with death, huh? I don't have any flashing banners (or clips from Pokemon, lol), so I think Joanne would be safe. Thanks for writing!

Kady Rilla Wholi said:

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since when does hogwarts have a choir? you got the idea from hp movie 3's trailer, right? Yes, but we had a choir at Hogwarts in the prequel to this fic: _Araminta Malfoy-Potter: Taking Hogwarts by Storm.  
i've got another question. do you ever review any other stories? have you ever heard of of common kindness: "I review your story If you review mine."?  
PS: why do you not have other authors on you fav's list?_

I've been reading _The Grasshopper and the Ant_ lately, so I haven't had time to write detailed constructive criticism. I don't think people like it when I really, really review anyway. I haven't figured out how to get JK Rowling on my favorites list, either!

Sapphira said:

__

You go, girl!

Yes, I do, don't I? :)

__

You don't go to Pooraka Highschool do you?

I've been warned never to reveal any personal information online.

__

Do you mind if I...

No. Traditions can't be copyrighted.

__

There's no such thing as an autoharp. Obviously you've never studied music, but surely they have music classes at your school? It's okay to ask someone for help if you're not sure. That's what professional writers do. 

I will ask my music teacher to let me out of taking my autoharp test next week, then! Yay!

__

I like Draco and Hermione's relationship. The only thing was, they're so affectionate it seems OOC for them not to have nicknames for each other. Perhaps they will make some up later? He is usually called Drake in all the best stories.

I'm scandalized! Only bad authors call them Drake and 'Mione _all_ the time. But maybe they should have squishy names for each other. How about Coco (for Draco) and Neenee (for Hermione?)

Confidential to Fluff: _Notoriety_. Now you'll have it whenever you need it! ;)

Araminta stumbled out of the choir room in a hazy mess. Who _was_ that vision? He was incredibly handsome--even more so than Harry had been at any age--and he had an aura of danger and mystery that she couldn't resist. She had the feeling that if she met him in a dark alley, she'd let him have his wicked, wicked, naughty, bad, secret, sexy, hot way with her.

The fantasy had her head spinning so much that she was in Hogsmeade before she realized she'd left the castle. She was, in fact, in the Terrib Alley section of Hogsmeade: a poor part of the village that was lined with secondhand shops. It was little wonder that she hadn't explored this part of town before.

A sign on one read: We Want Worthless. A smaller sign beneath read: Retailer of phoenix treats! Araminta pushed open the door and entered the dimly lit store. She was running low on treats for Fawkes-Iolanthe, and after the phoenix's spectacular rescue during choir practice, it deserved a little TLC. (A/N Tender Loving Care.)

A bored-looking woman was reading a magazine behind the counter. "Let me know if I can be of service," she said in a flat voice. 

Araminta murmured something noncommittal and turned to browse the rack of phoenix treats. Bacon, snake, or bacon/snake? Araminta couldn't decide. Maybe Fawkes-Iolanthe would rather have a nice Cornish hen for a change?

"I'll give you a gift with purchase if you'll make your selection _now_," the shopkeeper growled.

Araminta selected a package of each flavor and took her things to the register. "Please forward all bills to my fiancee, Harry Potter."

The red-haired woman froze as she reached for a sack to pack Araminta's purchases in. "Fiancee, Harry Potter? _You're_ the one he's going to marry?"

"That's right," Araminta said smartly. Habit forced her into defensive mode. 

"Con." The woman took a deep breath. "Grat." Another. "Ulations," she forced out through clenched teeth. "In that case, I have a very, very special gift for you." She reached under the counter and pulled out a battered journal. "You might want to keep...a diary...of your wedding. So that you can remember the happy times."

Araminta thought that the woman looked familiar, but her face was so bloated (from long years of drinking too much sherry) that she couldn't quite place her. She also thought that the woman's smile wasn't very sincere. "All right.... Thank you," she replied, and collected her packages. 

When the shop door closed behind her with the clang of an outsized cowbell, she was sure that she heard the sound of maniacal laughter from somewhere inside.


	13. Unlucky Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Unlucky Thirteen

Arminta tucked her shopping under her arm and bustled back towards the main street that ran down the center of Hogsmeade. As she rounded a corner, she bumped hard into James Potter.

"Whoa there, little lady," he said, helping her up. "Well! If it isn't the very person I was looking for. Your wedding dress is ready to be fitted," he continued, taking her arm and steering her down the street before him in a manner that Araminta thought entirely too familiar.

"My wedding dress? So...so soon? I don't remember going shopping for a wedding dress," Araminta replied. "I think things might be moving a little fast again."

James laughed coarsely. "Of course they're moving fast. Got to be quick with weddings. On the ball. How do you think I got my little Lily? Snatched her right out from under Snivellus's nose, I did. Sirius's, too. Got her to settle down and have Harry, and now he's looking forward to the same thing. Here we are!"

They stopped outside Madam Malkin's Bridalwear and Trousseau. A neon sign flashed 'Everything 50% off! Going out of business!' This puzzled Araminta--she couldn't figure out why a fine seamstress like Madam Malkin, who operated shops all over the wizarding world that were renowned for their taste, would ever need to slash her prices.

A short, plump witch led them to a private fitting room. James went to fetch her dress while Araminta stripped behind a screen.

"Hey, put this on first," James said, returning to the room. His arm shot past the edge of the screen and several scraps of lace dangled from his finger. "I bet it will look great on."

Araminta wriggled into the lacy underthings. They were obviously decorative, rather than functional. She contemplated herself in the mirror behind her, wondering why the screen was shaking so hard. "James? Is there an earthquake?"

"Er, no," he answered. "I'm, I'm just trying to figure out where to hang up your dress. There are all these little holes in the screen, but the hanger won't stay in any of them."

Uncomfortable, Araminta said, "Then, why don't you just hand it round to me? I'll take if off the hanger."

A few minutes later, she was mostly dressed. She emerged, blushing. "James, could you fasten me?"

Araminta thought that no one, not even Bollocksy, had _ever _taken so long with a zipper. But, when she was crammed into and overflowing the tiny bodice, she forgot about the wait.

The dress was--oh, dear god. The dress was unimaginable. It was slit so high that the slightest breeze would show the world a glimpse of everything, and it was so sheer that there was nothing left to the imagination anyway.

"Can," Araminta started, aware that James was staring openly. _He must be as shocked as I am,_ she thought. "Can we return this one, do you think?"

"All sales final," a seamstress barked from the next room. Before there was time to protest, the dress was wrapped up and added to Araminta's growing pile of packages.


	14. Luckier Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Luckier Fourteen

Sappira said:

__

I like the rude woman in the shop. I think I know who she is ... it's to do with the scene in Dumbledore's office, isn't it? 

Nope! :D

__

Yeah, good luck with your "autoharp test". Do you have to study the "magnoflute" and the "plasmoviolin" as well??

No, but I do have a theremin final tomorrow. I think I will stay home and say that I had to take some TheraFlu.

Klutzy said:

__

Oh my god, I feel so sorry for you.

Aw. It's sweet of you to be so concerned, but I'm fine, really.

Fluff said:

__

Like, omg, I so totally LOVE that song, it is such like, an oldie, though... ;)

Oops! I guess Professor Longbottom was teaching them oldies? Or maybe, in this timeline, it's a song that gets popular in the future? (A remake, maybe?) Eep!

__

So[...] our perfect Araminta has had[...][a]nother shocking relevation. I don't need to ask you to upload the next chapter[...]soon because I know you will.

Araminta hasn't quite caught on to what you have, but I'm sure she will soon! More updates soon-- you're right!

Araminta and James walked back out into the cold. "Hi, ~*~Lexie~*~," James said, waving to one of his old classmates.

"Hey, hey, hey, baybee, is this your new wife?" asked ~*~Lexie~*~.

"Sh!" said James. "Er, I have a perfectly good wife right now. Not dumpy or naggy or anything, thanks for asking, ~*~Lexie~*~."

~*~Lexie~*~ grinned widely. "Sure, James. You wouldn't want us to think you settled. Or that the Mudblood you married didn't turn out to be so rich after all."

"Um, er, well, we're fine, just fine," James broke in. "See you later, ~*~Lexie~*~."

"Bye!" said ~*~Lexie~*~, and she trotted off down the street.

"Who was that?" Araminta asked.

"~*~Lexie~*~? Oh, she's just...just one of my old school chums. A substitute Marauder, sometimes."

Araminta frowned. ~*~Lexie~*~ didn't look like she'd fit in very well with the Marauders. And James had wanted to talk to ~*~Lexie~*~--except when she wanted to talk about Lily. Aramint was suspicious of ~*~Lexie~*~, to say the least.

They continued walking, running into Draco, Hermione, Harry, and Lily coming their way. "Hello, loves," Lily said, giving them a big hug. "Got much shopping done?"

"I got some phoenix treats for Fawkes-Iolanthe, and I got a free journal for a gift! I could swear I've seen that woman somewhere before. Then, er, James here took me to get my trousseau fitted...and we ran into ~*~Lexie~*~."

"~*~Lexie~*~?" Lily's neck turned red. "That tramp that used to hang out with the squid? ~*~Lexie~*~, the girl who I caught you with the night before our wedding? ~*~Lexie~*~, the girl you threated to shack up with right after Harry was born? _That _~*~Lexie~*~?"

"Oh, er, actually, it was a different ~*~Lexie~*~," James replied, ducking the purse that Lily swung at him. "~*~Lexie~*~ Smith, not ~*~Lexie~*~ Slag."

"Oh, all right then," said Lily. "Why don't we all go to The Three Broomsticks and have some butterbeer? Coco? Neenee? If you'd quit smooching for a moment, we'd like your opinion."

Draco and Hermione broke apart. "We don't know anyone named ~*~Lexie~*~," the said together.

Lily shook her head and led them toward the pub for a family gathering.


	15. Chappie fifteen

Chappie fifteen

Er, ~*~Lexie~*~? You were ~*~Lexie~*~ Smith, not ~*~Lexie~*~ Slag. Of course, I support your decision to be anything you want to be. I'm open-minded like that.

Sapphira: I have...oh. My. God. Shall have them removed posthaste.

Draco and Hermione seated themselves at one end of the semi-circular bench that ran around the edge of their booth. Harry scooted in next, pulling Araminta in beside him. Next came James, followed by Lily. Araminta ended up sandwiched between the Potter men as they jostled her for elbow room. They both had very hairy elbows.

"'Merta!" James hollered. "A round of butterbeer on me."

"Coming right up," sang Madam Rosmerta sweetly.

"Now, Araminta, darling, tell us how you met Harry." Lily leaned over her husband and reached for the creamer.

"Er, well..." Araminta began to panic. He'd changed her diapers, for chrissakes! She couldn't tell them that!

"Araminta did some of her Hogwarts studies when I was in school, and some of them more recently," Harry answered for her. "We played on the same Quidditch team. I snatched her right out from beneath Draco's nose--though I didn't know he was her father at the time, or I'da just punched him and carried her off!"

Lily laughed at her son's antics. "We know you better than that, Harry James Potter. You'd have swept her off her feet, or at least made sure you had some private time along in her dorm room."

"A-_hem_," James coughed in an exaggerated fashion. "We all know how that went, don't we?" He caught a mean glance from Lily and tossed it right back at her. "He's rectifying the situation by marrying her now, dear."

"So, what will you be wearing to the wedding, Hermione?" Lily asked, to change the subject.

Hermione peeled her lips from Draco's and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked rather dazed. "Wear? To how when?"

Draco patted her on the arm. "Neen, she's asking us about the wedding. Of course we'll be paying, don't you worry about a thing!" He flashed a brilliant smile at the party.

"Butterbeer," said Madam Rosmerta, defining what she set down on the table.

"Well," James said, waggling his eyebrows, "bottoms up!"

"Ow!" shrieked Araminta, who had been pinched on hers from both sides. As soon as she could manage it, she was going to run away from home. Or write something in her diary, she wasn't sure which.


	16. Chapter sixteen

Chapter sixteen

Finally, at last, after a long while, when the bill had been paid (Harry had insisted) the party rose and tramped back out into the street. Lily was clucking at Coco and Neenee, who were attached at the lip and very near to being attached at the hip as well. James and Harry were muttering rude things to one another--Araminta had a flash of inspiration and connected them to Peeves (were they related?)--and Araminta was scratching her neck.

"James?" she said quietly, interrupting the end of some obscene joke ("That looks like The Black Hole of Calcutta!"). "I think we need to go back to Madam Malkin's. That dress...the one you gave me...I think it gave me a rash."

Araminta pushed the collar of her Slythindor robes to one side to expose the blooming, angry red welts that were spreading rapidly across her skin.

James and Harry pulled her sideways into a dark alley. "Er, the light's better in here," Harry said, pulling the collar farther down. "Hmm. Yes, a rash. Let's see if it's spreading." He and James undressed her further, and Araminta shivered in her knickers in the cold alleyway. 

"Come on, love, we need to know if it's just a little rash or if we need to get you to Madam Pomfrey. I can't see--move that, like this..."

Araminta leaned her head against the brick wall behind her and grasped a metal drainpipe. She had one knee propped on Harry's shoulder and James held the other up for inspection, steadying her with a hand behind her butt while Harry reached up to make sure her bra wasn't falling off.

"I think I see it," Harry exclamed. "YES, I've found it!"

Araminta let out a feigned shout of delight. About time; she was getting a cramp.

"Araminta, darling," Harry said, leaning close, "I am sorry to tell you that there's a terrible ploot against you."

"Huh? What sort of plot?" Araminta asked.

"Not plot, ploot. It's a sort of..." He looked at James, who merely shrugged, snickering. "It's a sort of demon that lives in Las Vegas. It makes you turn red; it makes me turn blue. No, I'm not going to show you where. Only by making certain small sacrifices there will you be able to shake off this rash, relieve my ache, and heal."

James was outright laughing now. "You'd better--ha ha ha--hurry it up, if you're gonna go."

"Yes," said Harry, a light in his eyes gleaming green so that he almost--but not quite--looked like the Harry she remembered (if she looked at him sideways with her eyes half-closed and pretended he was seventeen again).

Araminta grabbed her robes and fastened them quickly. "Then, let's get to it!"


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen:

James waggled his eyebrows at Harry and clapped him on the back. "Yeah, get to it, son." Then, he Apparated away with a resounding _crack_. Of course, it wasn't quite as obnoxious as the crack Araminta saw when he turned around right before he disappeared, but it was still pretty loud.

"Okay, babe. Let's get going." Harry wrapped his arms around Araminta's waist. "Las Vegas, here we come!"

"Wait!" Araminta pushed him away. "I can't leave the country. I don't have a passport. And, anyway, don't you have to be twenty-one to go to Las Vegas?"

"Drat," Harry muttered. "Aging spell." He pulled out his wand and stuck it under the hem of Araminta's robes. "Knees apart, come on--I've got to touch skin. There, now you're twenty-one."

Araminta caught her reflection in a convenient puddle. She didn't look much different--her skin was, perhaps, less elastic, and her eyes were a deeper shade of gray-green, but she noticed little else. When she looked up, Harry was transfiguring an old copy of _The Quibbler_ into a passport. 

"Okay, Las Vegas, _now_ here we come!" Harry cried, holding tight to Araminta.

Araminta squeezed her eyes shut as the world flashed by in MTV-fast cutscenes. She didn't like traveling by Apparation any more than she liked traveling by Floo. "Couldn't we just take an airplane?" she gritted out.

"But we're already here," Harry said, leading her out from behind a dumpster and onto the front steps of the Bellexcalibursphere Hotel. "Quick. Easy. No customs officials asking stupid questions."

Araminta trailed Harry into the expansive lobby. It seemed to be a mile wide and filled with gaily hopping fountains, overstuffed chairs, and men with sartorial tastes similar to Harry's. Araminta hoped that there wouldn't be a fire; she couldn't stand the smell of burning polyester.

"Hullo," Harry said to the front desk clerk. "Reservation for Potter. One room, California-King bed, non-smoking, jacuzzi." He smirked as the clerk handed him the key and noted their lack of luggage. 


	18. ch 18

Chapter Eighteen

Silverhill said: _I had been wondering what "ploot" meant, and now I know._

I say: Good! I read it in a really good story the other day, but couldn't figure out what the author was getting at. So I decided to make up my own version.

Sapphira said: _More crack jokes!_

I don't really know any. I'm not even very good at knock-knock jokes.  
_I wonder if Araminta will meet any Mary-Sues in the US?_

? Why would she want to do that?

The moment the door slammed behind her at room 1101, Araminta let her rage fly like an eagle.

"Harry James Potter, you planned this! You wanted to get me in a compromising position even though we're not married yet! Now I feel like a tramp, and it's _ALL YOUR FAULT_."

Araminta burst into wet, drippy tears. She was filled with anger and shame, and was carrying a huge burden of guilt because she knew that she'd caused this entire situation. If she hadn't killed Voldemort, in a way, by giving him the makeover that rippled through time, the worst that would have happened--well, what _was_ the worst that could have happened? She'd had to help Draco and Hermione get together; it was foretold. 

Maybe she shouldn't have delivered Snape's and Millicent's babies.

Maybe she shouldn't have kissed Draco.

Maybe she shouldn't have...fiddled around...with Harry. That certainly hadn't been worth it; he'd had all the self-control of a firecracker. Went off like a shot. No delay for him. Faster than a cup of instant noodles. Faster than Mc Donald's. Faster than Seabiscuit.

Harry muttered something about mini-bars and three hundred thread count sheets, but Araminta couldn't stem the flow of tears. He went on about a fruit basket and turn-down service, but she only cried harder. "Fine," he said at last. "If you need me, I'll be in the casino."

Araminta eventually stopped crying and was only sniffly. She realized that she was still clutching Fawkes-Iolanthe's phoenix treats and some of her other purchases. She had the wedding dress that was worse than any bridesmaid's dress and the journal. This caught her attention, and she took it out on the balcony to see it in a better light.

On the back of the diary, which was from Vauxhall Road, Arminta noticed that there were two things: T.M. Riddle and a sticker that said, "Propertee of Ginny Weasley." Odd. She didn't need a second-hand diary, but maybe there were smutty stories inside.

__

Nope, thought Araminta. _Not a damn thing. I always knew that Weasley woman was dull._ Sighing, Araminta put the book in her pocket and wiped away the last tearstains from her face. She needed to find Harry, because even though he'd probably charge her an arm, and a leg, and a few other body parts she didn't want to think about right now, he was her ticket out of here.


	19. NINETEEN

Chapter Nineteen

Araminta pushed the door close button so that she'd have the elevator all to herself. She just didn't feel up to sharing with the crowd of Japanese tourists who were flocking toward her, pointing at her hair, and making camera motions. She considered telling them off in Japanese, but dropped the notion when she noticed there was a sumo wrestler along for the holiday. She also didn't feel up to finding Harry, but she knew she'd have to because of the way she'd changed the past. She'd made her bed and now she'd have to lie (and fake) in it.

Araminta sauntered up and down the endless rows of video poker machines, trying not to breathe in the stench of smoke and stale drinks. This Las Vegas place sucked. She sat down on a high stool and idly stuck a Sickle into a hole before pulling back the arm. A bucketload of large silver coins spilled out of the bottom, but as it wasn't wizarding money, Araminta merely shrugged and walked away.

She sat down at an empty table and flipped through a stack of discarded leaflets. _Work as a dealer_! said one. Araminta didn't know what that was about. Another one was looking for dancers; Araminta had taken some lessons in her time and thought she could probably get the job easy. The most promising flyer was one searching for girls to go and live on some sort of chicken ranch, though, from the sound of it, the work was nights and involved a lot of lying around. Araminta thought she'd make a competent lady of the evening. She was a night person.

After wandering around some more, she spotted Harry at the craps tables. He had his hand halfway under the blouse of a blowsy-looking type. Araminta couldn't figure out why--she didn't look like she needed CPR or anything. She snuck around behind a bank of slots and opened her mind and her ears, and between the two she was able to block out the ringy-dingy noises enough to hear what Harry was saying.

It was the most awful thing she'd ever heard.

(Sorry for the cliffie!)


	20. Twenty CLIFFHANGER SEQUEL TO COME SOON

Chapter Twenty

Araminta ran down between the tables until she tripped over her long Slythindor robes and fell to the floor. "Hey there, girlie, wanna join us for some poker?" said a nasty voice.

"I'd poke 'er!" another voice chimed in.

"Go away," Arminta said, hiding her face in her hands. "Everyone, everything, just go away!"

"Aw." She felt a big ham hand pat her on the shoulder. "Hey there, don't cry. I bet I know what would make you happy." 

This new voice was gentle and deep. Araminta wiped away the tears that blurred her eyes and looked up into the wizened, gentle face of a man in a woolen sweater and a tweed blazer. It fell open, and a tag showed that read _Property of Theodore Goddard._

"Why don't you come along with me to a more private setting, where you won't be bothered by the riffraff?" he continued, helping her up.

"That's very kind," said Araminta, recognizing one of her own countrymen and allowing him to lead her to the high rollers room.

The VIP room was even smokier than the main part of the casino. As they entered the gaudily appointed room, a card game broke up and cowboy-hatted men threw their cards down on the table, swearing and muttering. Araminta stood to one side as they exited.

"Let me go and get us some tea, dear," the Englishman said, pulling out a chair for Araminta. He gestured to the only remaining person, a man who sat well back into the shadows. "This is an old friend; I'm sure you can keep each other company while you wait."

Araminta was nearly alone. Then, a squat little man pulled his chair up and into the light. He had a very hairy chest, a very high hair line, and a cigar that he chewed between his teeth. Araminta was strongly reminded of the Muggle actor Danny DeVito.

"Joe Rolling," said the man, sticking out his hand. 

Araminta shook it, replying, "Araminta Meliflua Malfoy...Malfoy-Potter, if I'm forced to take advantage of the Nevada laxity in marriage law."

Joe let out a chuckle. "Sweetheart, that's one institution I can't diss highly enough in any country. Now, is that why you've got tearstains?"

"Yes," Araminta admitted. "I heard my husband-to-be telling someone that he was only marrying me for my money. The worst part of it is that I can't help loving him. You see, I've been through so much for him."

"Everybody says that," said Joe, patting her hand sympathetically.

"No, really," said Araminta. "You see, I thought he was my father, but then I went back in time and had to help my other father find his one true love or he'd die--part elf, you know. Then the woman I thought was my aunt turned out to be my mother, and I had to help her get together with father two so that I'd be born, and in the meantime, I helped my former father who was then my boyfriend and now my fiancé kill an evil overlord..." Araminta clutched her head. It was starting to hurt. "But when I managed to get back to my own time, it turned out that the things I did had an effect on time that rippled outward, and the evil overlord was dead, and hadn't killed my fiancé's parents, and he was different and creepy. I hate this life. I hate it!" Araminta started bawling again.

Joe set a roulette wheel on the table and spun it idly. "What do you want, red or black?"

"Red," sniffed Araminta. It was one of her House colors, after all. Joe spun the wheel and it stopped on black. "See? I can't win no matter what I do!"

"You're not seeing the whole picture. It landed on red," Joe said.

"No, it didn't," Araminta argued, pointing at the little white marble that was sitting on number four, black. 

Joe smiled. "It landed on red in your plane. In another plane, another Araminta is sitting here and clapping her hands because it turned up red."

"You mean, sort of like how my present got messed up? I didn't get on the right plane? I haven't taken a plane, ever," Araminta said, growing increasingly frustrated.

"Er, no," said Joe, "think of it like alternate times. In the time you remember, you had a wonderful life. But there is also this life, which sucks. There are an infinite number of present times, because it is our choices that determine our fates. Each time you make a choice, you make a new present."

"That's not much help. I'm still stuck here and I don't like it." Araminta pouted, her lip wobbling dangerously. She knew she was acting childishly, but she couldn't help it. 

"Well," said Joe, with a glint in his eye as he fingered a pile of chips (poker chips, not like fish and chips, which are really french fries), "you have to take charge of the present. Did you know that the pen is mightier than the sword?"

"I don't follow," Araminta said.

"I know exactly how I want my present to go. I've planned it all out. Filled notebooks. And so it goes. However, I know that there are all sorts of different timelines. In one, your fathers are still together. In another, your fiancé and your mom are married. In others, your fiancé is giving your chemistry teacher a blow job. And, believe it or not, in some you don't even exist."

"All of these things are happening in the present? All at the same time? Why doesn't the world just explode?"

Joe scratched his head. "I suppose because somewhere, someplace, there's someone getting to experience their favorite universe. It doesn't hurt anything. Not worth getting all riled up over, anyway."

"It is too," said Araminta, "if you can't get back to the present you want."

"Would you, by any chance, consider rewriting your own history?"

Araminta started to get an inkling of what Joe was getting at. "Are you saying," she said, reaching for the diary in her pocket, "that I could use magic--er, no, I don't know any magic--use a quill...er, pen, and that this might help me find my way back to the time I want to be in?"

Joe clapped his hands. "Ya think? Just one piece of advice, Araminta, and it's the most important one. You've got to figure out what went wrong, or you'll have wasted your one chance." He nodded his head toward the diary that she clutched to her ample chest. "And you only get one."

TO BE CONTINUED in Araminta Malfoy-Potter: Stormwatch!

***

This chapter and all preceding chapters--fanfiction! Harry Potter and all related material belongs to JK Rowling and is used in a derivative format without her permission or knowledge.


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